Early Parenthood: The First Three Weeks

Little Everett Alan turned 3 weeks old on Tuesday and a LOT has happened…one thing that hasn’t happened yet is his due date!  That’s not for another three days (May 18).  These beginning weeks of his life have been marked very much by juxtaposition.  I feel like the same person I was before, but at the same time have grown so much.  Mothering has felt very natural and easy to me, but is not without a steep learning curve and moments of exasperation, frustration, and even a couple panicky moments as well.  The most striking revelation about becoming a mother is the very clear feeling that despite the newness of everything, there is no other way.  Everett Alan has joined our life and it is unimaginable to envision a picture without him in it.

SO fortunate to have this little guy lighting up our lives

We love him

The first month has been all about relaxing together skin to skin.  Wouldn't trade it for anything!

THE FIRST WEEK WAS THE HARDEST

Still in the hospital, after the birth I felt so elated at having successfully given birth to a new little human in the way I did, and I felt proud and accomplished.  Mission complete!  Right!?  It wasn’t long before I started to realize that instead of the mission being complete, it was indeed only just beginning.  I have never in my life felt in such utter need of recovery while at the same time needing to learn and accomplish so much. 

Breastfeeding

Breast feeding was HARD – the nurses told us that late pre-term babies often have a more difficult time getting the hang of breast feeding – every time he went to breast he fell asleep and apparently he didn’t have a good latch besides.  Not that I knew what a good latch looked like!  My nipples started to hurt and get really sore and raw and I dreaded the feedings that came every three hours, followed immediately by pumping which resulted in nothing more than a drop or two of milk, if that. The pumping was to facilitate my milk coming in in the absence of his ability to really pick up feeding right away.  I just sat there in the hospital bed, enjoying holding him against my chest, looking at the clock and dreading the next hour long round of feeding and pumping.  After about three days, my milk came in and my breasts were full, hard, knotted, and uncomfortable.  Now instead of feeling fear of pumping with no results, I was afraid of too much milk all bound up in my breasts.  I never did get engorged breasts though, and for that I fully and completely thank my mother, who helped me with breast massage.  She showed me how to loosen up the initial milk and getting it flowing.  Without her help and support, I feel sure that my breasts would have become engorged, as I had no idea what to do.  As for the latching issues, after about a week, we consulted the La Leche League’s The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding to get some tips about how to help him to latch better.  A week of frustration, and sore, raw, scabbed nipples melted away in about two days, as I learned how to facilitate a better latch in him.   

I worked hard to pump this paltry amount of milk right when it first started coming in.

Milk drunk!!

Recovery

I have never felt at once not sick, but at the same time so remarkably and completely drained, exhausted, and overwhelmed.  Getting up to pee was a monumental task, as was showering, which I could have never done alone in the first several days. 

The apex of my exhaustion and feelings of being overwhelmed came on the Friday we went to the first doctor’s visit (three days after birth).  I had planned to shower and brush my hair before the 9:00 AM appointment, but that definitely did not happen. I did manage to get a dress on, and riding in the car on the way to the appointment I felt proud for getting clothes on and getting out of the house.  But once we got to the office, I saw other mothers with young babies who had brushed their hair and were wearing JEANS (looking back, they were probably 2-3 weeks post-partum, not 2-3 days), and the nurse who took us back to the room walked so fast, and I felt so slow and unable to keep up.  When we got to the room we had to undress Everett and of course he didn’t like that and started crying.  I started seeping silent tears right along with him, feeling slow, vulnerable, helpless, and overwhelmed.  In my mind, I could see the situation from the outside and knew that nothing was wrong – nothing that a lot of sleep and rest couldn’t fix.  I quickly recovered and the rest of the appointment and day went well, with me focusing on napping and resting.

For the first 7 days post-partum, I felt super, super exhausted and could just only muster the strength to shower in the mornings.  That was my big activity of the day, before I parked myself on the sofa until it was time to go upstairs in the evening for bed.  Again, physically I did not feel sick, but just consumed by an overwhelming tiredness (not to mention extreme soreness where I had gotten stitches).  It was difficult, but for the first 7-10 days, I had to accept that I could not physically do anything outside of care for my baby who mostly slept on my chest, only waking for feedings.  Around day 6 or 7, I started to get up and change Everett, or go to the fridge myself to fix breakfast.  Sometimes I would wonder if I wasn’t just being lazy or if I really needed to spend as much time on the sofa as I was, but then I would remember the kind of person I normally am.  The kind of person who gets up at 5:30AM before work to train for marathons (on Saturdays even!) is not the kind of person to waste the day away on the sofa if it wasn’t needed.  I had to trust that my body would tell me when I was able to do more.  Gradually, by two weeks post-partum, I was ready for a walk around the block (and then back to bed!), or a trip to my mother-in-law’s house for dinner (on the sofa!). 

Now, at three weeks and some change post-partum, I feel 60-70% recovered, and we plan our activities accordingly.  The morning is for waking up, feeding, showering, and eating breakfast.  By noon we are usually out of bed, showered, and ready to go.  Afternoons are for one activity (a friend coming by to visit, a trip to Jeni’s, figuring out some forms that need to be filled out) and a walk.  By around 5:00 or 6:00, it’s time to start thinking about dinner, which takes a while to put together, and then around 7:00, we eat and have relaxation time in which we might watch a movie.

Naked baby airing in the sun!

We're still working on mobile interest

I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I’M DOING!

Motherhood has come with a steep learning curve and my lexicon is filled with all sorts of words I barely knew existed before.  I’ve been reading lots of books and local motherhood forums, etc. and felt super proud when I was able to properly diagnose Everett’s first little malady – thrush, or a yeast infection in his mouth.  On Sunday evening, I started to notice some white patches in his mouth and I immediately thought “Oh shit, he’s got thrush!” (Something I would have never known without prior research.)  Monday I tried natural remedy of acidophilus and yogurt in his mouth, but by Tuesday it seemed worse.  So I called the doctor, explained the symptoms to them, which they confirmed was indeed thrush, and by Tuesday afternoon we had filled little Everett’s first prescription (boy, that didn’t take long!)  By Wednesday, his mouth was looking much better!

For tomorrow’s doctor’s appointment, we had to research a vaccination they’re recommending for Hepatitis B – for which we’ve made our decision about.  (The decision is a private one that, after having done ample research, only Chad and I need to be comfortable with.)  The point is though, who has ever heard of these things!?  Thrush!  Hepatitis B vaccines!  Latching!  Pumping!  Oh yes, that’s right:  every mother, or parent out there.  Well, we’re just getting our feet wet with all these decisions, and we think we’re doing a pretty good job so far :)

SOME OF OUR FAVORITE MOMENTS {written by Daddy}

Things we love: naked baby butt in the sun

Things we love: just waking up in the morning

One of the most amusing and simple ways we have enjoyed spending much of our day is just watching Everett’s facial expressions haphazardly change from one serious look to another. Sometimes he will be relatively calm and not fussing, but have a very confused or angst-filled look on his face. This will slowly melt into a look of near-sleeping intoxication, which will melt into a slight grimace, a grunt, then ultimately resulting in a squirting sound coming from his diaper. This is one of the funniest things we witness on a daily basis!

"Geeze Mom and Dad!  You just don't get it!"

Another enjoyable part of our day is our daily walk, which is usually through our neighborhood, or sometimes to a nearby park. We strap Everett to one of our chests in our Moby Wrap, which usually puts him to sleep in minutes. Over the last couple weeks, our walks are gradually getting longer and longer as Mommy is healing and getting her strength back. We can’t wait until we can take Everett to a metro park for a short hike, or to pick berries this summer at a local U-pick farm, or to take him on his first camping trip, all of which we are going to try and accomplish this summer.

Things we love: going for walks

Things we love: more walks - a trip to OSU

 

Things we love: bath time faces!

Week 36 Recap: An Unexpected Birth!!

 Tuesday April 22 began like any other morning:  Chad and I got up to go to the gym before work.  I was feeling a little tired, so I just walked on the treadmill next to Chad while he ran his 3 miles.  We came back home and I took a shower while Chad got things ready for breakfast and lunch, and made coffee.  When I got out of the shower, I noticed some pee leaking from me, and I thought it was weird because I couldn’t stop it.  I sat down on the toilet and tried to go to the bathroom, but I couldn’t…I thought maybe the baby’s head was pushing on my bladder and making me pee a little or something.  So I got dressed and went downstairs and told Chad about it, and then we sat down to eat breakfast.  Chad had made a mulberry pie on Sunday, so we ate that and it was tasty!!  Then I stood up and it happened again – I grabbed onto Chad and said “I’m peeing!  I’m peeing!  I can’t stop it!  I’m sorry!!” 

We went upstairs to get me changed – me leaking all the way up.  Then I looked up the symptoms of water breaking on the internet and it seemed possible that it could have been my water…it just looked like a clear liquid.  So I called my mom, told her what happened, and she told me to call the doctor.  I called the doctor and while we waited for them to call us back, Chad hopped into the shower – we were still planning on him going to work at this point because we didn’t think it was anything.  The doctor called me back, I told her what happened, and she told me to go to Labor and Delivery at the hospital.  Pretty much at this exact same time, I started having contractions.  They weren’t too bad, but definitely contractions.  I remember kneeling on the sofa in the media room, and then again when I was downstairs having to kneel on the sofa.  At this point Chad was running around trying to collect things “just in case” we were in labor  - I think we took the laptop, a book about pregnancy (uh why?), a book about breastfeeding (makes more sense), my journal to Everett, and a sweatshirt.  My mom decided that she was packing her bags and coming down right away.  Worst case scenario, it was a false alarm and we could go get lunch together. 

Then we hopped in the car and took off for the hospital, and as we did the contractions were getting stronger and stronger – coming on really fast and fairly hard!!  Definitely less than every five minutes!!  I called my mom and told her that we were on the way to the hospital.  While we were on the highway she asked how things were going.  She was talking; I was having a contraction and couldn’t say much of anything.  She said, “Well, you’ll know if the contractions are getting stronger when you can’t talk through them,” and I finally said, “Well, you didn’t hear me saying anything for the past minute or two, did you!?”  All the while, on the way to the hospital, the contractions were getting stronger and stronger and by that point, I was sure that I was definitely in labor!  We got to the hospital and parked and I made Chad take a picture of me in the parking lot – I happened to be having a contraction at the time, so I grimaced through it and leaned on the bike rack with my thumbs up while Chad snapped a photo.

Me in the middle of a contraction in the Dublin Methodist Hospital parking lot!

Around 10:30 AM, we slowly walked from the car to the lobby and went inside and Chad told them I was in labor.  They asked me if I needed a wheel chair and I told them that I could walk, so they walked us up to Labor and Delivery and sent me into a triage room.  I took off my work clothes, put on a hospital gown, and waited for a midwife to come in and examine me.  The contractions were getting pretty strong by this point – they hooked me up to a monitor and Chad did indeed confirm that the “contraction numbers” on the machine would go up when my contraction would begin.  Then a midwife came in and checked my cervix and told me that I was 5 cm dilated and definitely in labor– what a big surprise!!  Everything was happening so quickly – about 2 hours earlier I had thought I was going into work and here I was already almost half way through the entire process!!

 

In triage!!  Receiving verification that I am indeed in labor!!

Then a nurse came in and took me to a delivery room, where my contractions continued to get even stronger.  I think it was about 11:00 AM at this point – things were moving super fast and I couldn’t quite believe where I was.  They hooked me up to a Heprin lock (IV portal, but no actual IV) and put an external monitor on me.  I asked if the external monitor was necessary and they told me it was because the baby was “decelling” which meant that the heart rate appeared to be dropping every time I had a contraction.  It’s not that the baby’s heart rate was actually dropping, but they just couldn’t get a clear reading on it – the contraction kind of masked whatever else was going on in there.  They tried to put an internal monitor on the baby, but I told them that they wouldn’t be doing that.  Chad was asking them all sorts of questions and then I told him to call my mom.  She started asking questions too on the phone, like “With the presence of the Strep B virus, wouldn’t the internal monitor raise the risk of transmission to the baby?”  Then the nurse started holding the external monitor to me and she told me that she was able to get a better read on the baby’s heart rate.  I’m glad, because I didn’t want them to put a little hole in my baby’s head with their unnecessary monitor.  Incidentally, I acquiesced to the external monitor even though it was unnecessary (studies have shown that the monitor does not significantly reduce the rate of operative deliveries or of adverse neonatal outcomes).

Around that time, Chad’s mom quietly slipped in the room but I was in the throws of heavy labor and couldn’t really talk much.  My dad also called the room about this time, but I wasn’t able to take the call…Chad took it, while I powered somewhat loudly through another contraction (I believe my dad asked Chad “Is that Corey in the background?”)  In fact this point was the height of my labor, and I was vocalizing with each contraction – moaning loudly and trying in vain to get comfortable.  I tried sitting on a birthing ball, but it was way too low to the ground – it was not comfortable.  Then I tried leaning on the bed, and that was also not comfortable.  I remember standing, hovering between the birthing ball and the bed, wracked with the feeling that whatever I chose, the contraction was not going to become any more comfortable.  Eventually I decided that lying sideways on the bed was the best position to be in.   In between each contraction I took the opportunity to rest totally and completely rest, lying still with my eyes closed.  I remember the nurse saying something about “You can’t do X until you are X centimeters dilated,” and I said “Can you check me now!?”  She checked and I was at 9 centimeters – she said “I don’t think we’ll be in here too much longer.”  So a few minutes went by and she told me not to start pushing until I’m 10 centimeters dilated and as she’s telling me this I’m literally feeling the first urge to push, so I say again “Can you check me again!?” and she tells me that I am 10 centimeters dilated and says: “You can begin pushing if you want, do you want to begin pushing?”  And I’m thinking “I don’t know!  You tell me!  You’re the freaking medical staff!!” 

Shortly after, the obstetrician came in and was time to begin the real business of birthing the baby.  They had me take a deep breath and push to the count of 10 three times in a row.  I was not a fan of the third push…I wish we could have forgone it.  I pretty much usually half assed that last push anyways.  At the beginning of the pushing phase, it was difficult to get my head out of the way…the surmounting pressure and the knowledge that something is about to dramatically separate your vagina is not a comforting thought.  Let’s just say that I didn’t push as hard as I could right from the get-go.  However, I quickly realized that the less enthusiastically I pushed, the longer I was going to be doing hard work.  Pushing was a lot less painful than contractions, but a LOT more active work – my entire body was covered in sweat and I was doing everything I could in between pushes to catch my breath and regroup my energy for the next round.  The obstetrician was doing perennial massage – NOT comfortable.  I hated that!!  (But at the same time I appreciated it.)  She also brought in a mirror so that I could see the progression of the baby’s head.  Ew.  I would peek every once in a while and feel intermittently grossed out and fascinated by it.  Mostly though, I was either too busy working or resting to spend a lot of time watching the mirror of a baby’s head coming out of my vagina.  In order to get me to push more effectively, the obstetrician also had me play a game of tug-of-war with her.  Whenever I would push, I would also pull on a white sheet, while she pulled on the other half.  When a pushing contraction ended, I would be completely out of breath – I would use the times in between to rest as much as possible – often lying there with my eyes closed and not moving.  I was able to keep my sense of humor though – I remember when the baby’s head starting crowning the doctor remarked that it had a lot of hair and I raised my hands above my head and exclaimed “Yes!  That’s all I cared about!!”

My mom was standing on the left side of my head – she had been holding my leg out when I pushed, but I guess I pushed with a lot of force, so she sent Chad down while she tended to comforting my top half!!!  The nurse was at my right side, coaching me on pushing – when a contraction started, I pretty much focused everything else out and paid attention to her.  Chad was stationed at my lower left side, holding my leg open with all his might every time I had a pushing contraction.  The obstetrician and nurse kept asking me what I wanted to do or how I wanted to push or whatever, and I thought “Dude.  I do not want to make decisions right now.  Please tell me what to do and I will do it.”  At one point, the head starting to really emerge and the doctor wanted to do an episiotomy and I did have an opinion on that – I gave an emphatic “No!”  In my head I was screaming “This is not your standard of care!  This is not your standard of care!”  So she didn’t give me one (although I did tear).  Finally when the baby’s head had crowned half way and after about 45 minutes of pushing, I gave one final push and the entire body just came slithering out.  Somebody announced that it was a boy and they put little Everett Alan on my chest and toweled him off.  Wow!  It was finally over and we had a little son!  How exciting!!  I had asked them to wait until the cord stopped pulsing to cut it – which they did.  Chad cut the cord – gross.  I peeked a little bit but yeesh, it’s not exactly my cup of tea. 

 

The first few moments of Everett Alan's life!

Then the nurse told me she were going to “massage” (aka punch the hell out of) my uterus which was going to hurt, in order to get out all the extra blood and crap that was hanging out in there.  Oh my god, did it ever hurt.  I yelled out when she pushed down on me – I accidentally squished poor little Everett and also pushed the nurse’s hand away.  On the second “massage” I was able to prepare by holding my mom’s hand on the left and gripping the bed on the right.  She told me to relax – that she couldn’t effectively massage if I was tense.  Hahahaha.  That’s so funny:  relax while getting punched.  That’s impossible!  But whatever she did (and I’m not saying I condone it) it worked, because I could feel lots of stuff coming out.  Also, while my childbirth was just about 100% natural (I did very briefly take some antibiotics for the Strep B culture), I did NOT get a Pitocin free hospital stay!!!  After the birth, they gave me a short IV dose of Pitocin to contract the uterus to avoid post-partum hemorrhaging.  If I had realized what she was giving to me, I probably wouldn’t have consented, but in the moment there was a lot going on, I was focusing on my new son, and I was too tired to notice!!  Sneaky, sneaky hospital got a Pitocin point on me!!  At the same time all this is going on, the obstetrician is stitching up my tears while I’m asking her “Are you done yet?”

 

I don't know what was going on here but this was right after he was born

During these first few minutes I remember everybody remarking about how his face looked and all I could see was the top of his head!!  I remember at one point exclaiming “Are we bonding!?  We are supposed to be bonding right now!!”  And the nurse kind of laughed and said “Sweetie, you two are bonding right now.”  After about 30 minutes, I tried to nurse Everett and it went pretty well, impressively well, actually (although after that it would take about 7 frustrating and painful days to get the hang of nursing).  Also somewhere in that first hour the nurse had me get up to pee – I had been drinking LOTS of water throughout my entire labor.  They told me I had to go because a full bladder could lead to increased uterine bleeding.  The thing that impressed me when I first got up was how weak I was…I definitely needed help to get through the trip…at the same time, I was happy that I was able to get up and move around so soon afterwards.

Around 3:00 or 3:30 they moved us from labor and delivery to post-partum. I remember when they moved me, there was a sign with patient information that got updated each day, it had the nurses’ names, medicines I’d be taking, etc.  One section was titled “Goals for Today,” which when I saw it I thought it should be labeled “ACCOMPLISHED!!”  Only a few hours went by before I realized that the true work had only just begun.  Recovering my own body, while learning how to nurse in the hospital setting where nurses and doctors are constantly coming and going, was an extremely daunting task.  Over the next two days we were also supported by all the grandparents and an aunt, who all brought lots of food.  My mom also helped me invaluably with the steep learning curve of nursing, showering, and a million other things that I had never even considered I would need help with.

 

Everett and Mommy!!

Overall, I would say that Chad and I were able to get the best birth experience possible in a hospital setting (especially with the help of my mom, who was able to help advocate for me on several occasions).  Because we were informed we were able to stop some procedures that we didn’t want (internal monitoring of baby, episiotomy, cutting the cord early, and routine procedures interfering with initial bonding), but it was still a very medical environment in which I found it difficult to rest and recover after the intense and physically draining experience.  It would have been better for both Everett and me if they would quit coming in to check him – for example his blood sugar (by pricking him and making him cry!) every couple hours, and instead just let us sleep and actually recover.  In the end though, we had a quick labor that I was able to fully experience without putting drugs in my body or Everett’s.  I’m proud of what I know my body can do – when surrounded by loving support.  In switching my body from preparing for marathons and instead preparing for the big “race day event” of labor, I was able to physically and mentally prepare for the challenges of the day.  Given the parameters in which we had to work, we had the absolute best experience possible!!  I have lots more to say and could probably write another four pages about the next two days of our hospital stay/Everett’s life, but we’ll have to end it here for now!!  If I could sum it all up in one sentence I would say:  “Corey and Chad had a successful birth event resulting in a healthy and beautiful baby boy named Everett Alan, surrounded by the love and support of family.”

Little Everett Alan going home from the hospital!